The Evolution of a Scarred Slayer
by Surrealmom
Summary: A telling of the dark past of Dilandau Albatou, following him through his earliest memories of being apart of the Zaibach empire, to the battles that earned him his fierce reputation and rank.
1. Monster

**Author's note to all readers:**

First of all, thanks so much for taking the time to look at this story. Normally I don't add author's notes, but I felt it was necessary for a story like this. I am a big fan of The Vision of Escaflowne and hope to share that interest with other fans through this story. Dilandau Albatou is a very important fictional character to me, my absolute favorite of all time, and I created this story just to see what it was like going into more detail about his past. Surprisingly this story has no actual big spoilers (though some minor ones), but I'll just go ahead and label it as **having** **spoilers**, so there's no risk in any mistakes. It's best that you watch the entire series before reading it. If you do not know the biggest spoiler of the series, it probably won't do much for you or make any sense. The story begins with a young Dilandau being about ten years old. For those of you who know his past from the series, you know that Dilandau really has no memory of his early childhood, **including certain** **major** **events or changes in his life**. I, myself, like to think that although he carries a few lingering memories from his "childhood" (which of course are brought out in episode 15), his more permanent "actual" memory started to form at the age I start him off at. You may disagree with that, and a lot of other things written, but this whole story is just my personal opinion on Dilandau as a character, whom I have studied like a nut job and the last thing I want to do is offend any other fans. So keep in mind that these are just some ideas I had, and I thought I would have fun compiling them in a story. The passage of time may be unclear in this story, as I believe that at this age, Dilandau has no real sense of time or age. I will try to hint at how much time passes as the chapters progress, because I plan on this story to take place over 5 years. I also tried to create some stories for characters who, in the show, we know very little about. I took this seriously by studying the characters and their relationships, and trying to create a plausible past for them. **Thanks for reading my babble, enjoy the story.**

My hands were so cold. I was sure that they had gone white, robbed of their once pure essence and an unholy will to live. I told myself that the pain was only temporary, and that it was merely a sign that the treatment was working. Though I had trouble finding any good in the situation.

They were **monsters**. Depraved monsters whose cold, unfeeling stare would poison even the purest of souls. As loud as I screamed and as sincere as I begged, they silently refused to loosen the binds that strapped me to a cold metal table. I really had no justifiable reason for having such a deep hatred for them; the cloaked men had gifted me with strength beyond that which any creature should ever possess. Now I find that over time, the power they had granted me was growing into a craving, an addiction. Now I find that I need that power, and no living creature in all of Gaea will deny me that intoxication.

Sometimes the memories will speak to me through bright flashes in my mind, but it's usually brief. I've become numb to all that was my past, but I do remember this: I know every time the needle broke my skin, I cried. Uncontrollable childish sobs that echoed through the stone corridors, yet never stirred a living creature, if any at all lingered. I was young and weak, and the tireless hands of the cloaked men punctured every untouched area of my flesh. That's why I hated them. That's why. I remember now. At times, I would resist the treatment, but the efforts were fruitless. Their hands were much stronger than my flailing arms and legs. They knew what was best for me. I tried to force myself to believe that, but I never really could.

The glass of Asturian wine I hold in my hand vaguely reminds of my first real taste of bloodshed. I remember an overpowering feeling of desperation. I was blessed when a bottle filled with a blue liquid clumsily fell to the ground and shattered. Anything sharp would have done, and in the rare moment that the cloaked men's eyes were no longer fixed on me, I grabbed a shard of glass and concealed it in the palm of my hand until the men left me to a night of rest, or "recovery" as they called it.

Alone in my chamber, I played with the shard of glass. Slowly guiding it along the blue veins in my pale arms. It was my only friend, really, the only one in this world that couldn't lie to me. It couldn't force me into anything against my will. It only spoke the truth, offering me two distinct choices: Live or die. I pressed the broken glass to my wrists and yearned for the courage to release myself from the endless daily torture. My voice trembled as softly I counted.

"_1…" _Place it.

"_2…"_ Press it.

"_3…"_ Want it.

One and two were easy.

But I didn't want it. I _couldn't_ make myself want it.

Pathetic, I know.

I hated myself for being so weak, for damning myself to a fate that I knew I deserved, somehow. But a vision was there to guide me. Before my young eyes, in a fleeting moment, I had seen my fate on this path. I felt a sharp pain in my head as I saw a deep red sky fade into a dark horizon. People were there. Faces and voices were unclear, as if they were all drowning in an endless dark pool, but I sensed what breed of creature I would evolve into if the cloaked men willed it to be so.

They called me a monster.

They shouted that word at me repeatedly, and it somehow felt well deserved. It felt right.

With all my strength, I clenched my teeth and forced the glass into my skin. The pain quickly faded into peace as I closed my tearful eyes and accepted the inevitable gift.

I awoke after three nights had passed.

I was too weak…I could have pressed harder. I had failed myself. The cloaked men had found me in a puddle of my own cold blood. However…being the monsters they were, they salvaged my life and quenched my body's thirst with a new essence. New blood. Unfamiliar ravenous blood that coursed through my veins with an insatiable need for destruction. It was the first of many transfusions.

Sleep came a bit more easily as the months passed, though I'm certain that was due to some nameless chemical they injected into my bloodstream. But it was somewhat of a comfort knowing that my screams would no longer penetrate my deep sleep. They were my creators, this was my home.


	2. The Gods

If I were to remember anything of the past five years, it would be the first time I held my sword. It was a glorious, radiant tool. My tool. In a way, I saw it as the answer to my prayers. An armored man standing before me placed the weapon in my hands, though as soon as I could grasp it, I swung wildly at the man. He smiled as if he had anticipated my pathetic defiance. I found it strange, yet somehow useful, how deeply it can grab the core of your soul when you give all your strength to a battle, only to see the enemy smile.

Young and ignorant, I swung several times, desperate to prove myself to be the creature I felt beneath my skin. My blood told me that I was ready, but my eager body was far too bruised and inexperienced to defeat even the weakest of enemies.

The armored man threw his fist into my skull, throwing me to the ground. It was well deserved. Though my actions were…justified, they would not be tolerated.

Again, I stood and foolishly raised my sword above my head. Before I could strike, the man thrust his foot into my abdomen, bringing me to my knees. My head was spinning as overwhelming shame caused me to beat my fist furiously to the ground. The pain could not compare to the disgust I felt in defeat. I never wanted to know that feeling again. I refused to.

Several nights later, the cloaked men neglected to take me to the chamber I had come to fear, and instead allowed me to sharpen my skills. I was left in a cold, desolate area of a Gaen forest with the same armored man who had beaten me. The air was heavy with rain, and the thunder above beckoned me as if the Gods themselves commanded me to draw my sword.

Before my hand could reach my weapon, the armored man quickly struck me with the back of his sword. With my vision now blurred, I could follow only the sound of his thunderous voice. He told me I was slow, weak. He demanded that I first practice my aim on an old tree stump. Angered, I poured my rage into my sword and destroyed the stump in three swift blows. What victory was this? Any dolt could conquer a piece of rotten wood. I wanted breath, flesh, _blood_. I wanted to claim a **life**.

My rebellious second attack on the man was faster; deadlier…the element of surprise was on my side. My small size and speed in the dark was my advantage. I twisted my body and seized the opportunity to slice open the man's leg. I laughed in delight at my small victory as he beat me to the ground. The pain was barely noticeable. As much as that controlling bastard tried to convince himself otherwise as he crushed my right arm, I had won. I had drawn his blood, and no amount of physical pain could take the sweetness of that victory away from me. Nothing else in the world mattered to me more than feeling such rapture again.

Every night I was sent to that forest. It was the only time I was allowed outside the fortress walls, I savored it. The moon's glow became the only light my skin had ever tasted.

One evening, barely before sunset, I crept out of my chamber and into the sweet fading light of day. I was taking heavy risks by leaving the fortress, but I'd heard multiple screams the night before. The cloaked men were occupied with other victims. I honestly didn't know whether or not I cared to be caught, what punishment could they give me worse than what I had already received?

Having been hidden for so long, I trusted that no one in the city would recognize me, especially in the dying sun. I roamed the city, filling my head with new sights and sounds. I suddenly approached an open area of such greatness, my mind was swimming in the dark echoes I heard of the countless workers in the underground caverns. The cold smell of metallic clockwork, the pounding of hammers, the pouring of liquid metal surrounded me, making my blood boil. The sun barely touched the magnificent giants that stood before me. They lived above the workers, looking down upon them. I could barely see their outline in the twilight, but they were there.

Larger than life itself, the fearful giants stood motionless, high above me, as if they were Gods of War, all to be worshipped. I carefully wrapped myself in a shadow, unseen to the workers below. The area was so large they would never notice someone like me among the darkness. The aching men below were their overworked creators. In the unforgiving heat and fire, they were tirelessly twisting and manipulating metal to form the gods themselves. I cautiously approached one of the giants and placed my small, insignificant hand on its foot. It was cold and unfeeling, brutal and sharp.

I knew this feeling well. I looked into the metal and suddenly saw my muddled reflection. I couldn't recall the last time I had seen my face. My skin was pale, almost as pale as my hair.

How long had my hair been white?

I took a moment to stare past my skin and hair. I looked deeply into my eyes seeing something I'd never dreamt to have been present in my meaningless glance.

A fire. 

There was a fire in my eyes, burning through the edges of my stare. I didn't recognize that fire at all. I moved my hand away from the metal and touched my face. It was hard to feel the difference between the metal and my flesh. It was the spirit I had feared all along, connecting us both. I looked up into the face of the giant in awe.

I knew the machine's pain. I kneeled down before its foot and laid my head against its shining surface. For the first and last time in my life, I prayed.

My prayers slowly faded into an unfamiliar peaceful sleep.


	3. Flame

Without warning, I felt the large hands of yet another oppressor dig into my shoulders and drag me out of the world of the Metallic Gods.

I had been discovered.

Of course, I kicked and screamed as I was dragged back to the fortress, but I wasn't all that upset really. I just wanted to give them a hard time, because in all honesty, I enjoyed it.

I was given a sedative and thrown back into my dark chamber. I stumbled, trying to hold my body up, struggling to fight the toxins. But I managed to stay awake for a few moments, listening to the horrific screams of children down the halls past my chamber. They screamed for their loved ones, families, mothers and fathers. I knew exactly what was happening to them, and I laughed the whole time until the chemicals in my blood forced my body to go limp. That night, I slept with a smile on my face. Their screams had become a strange breed of comfort to me.

The cloaked men saw less and less of me, narrowing the experiments to once every few days, instead of the daily routine. Rather than spending the nights with tubing and syringes, I spent them with my sword. Monitored of course, I was set out into the forests of Gaea to practice in any way possible. I clumsily swung at every noise and shadow, failing to slay any nocturnal creature that crossed my path. Over time I adapted the concept of agility, and quickly learned that a shadow can be a powerful ally, if respected.

Many nights passed, and I was well aware that my skills were sharpening. The soldiers who guarded the fortress had also taken notice. They would speak highly of my strength, but would denounce my "lack of control."

One night, I was ripped from my chamber and thrown into a pitch-black room with my sword and a steal breastplate, engraved with a strange symbol. Trapped, I slipped into the breastplate and gripped my sword tightly; unafraid of what lingered in the corners. The blinding dark was to test my alertness and sensitivity to the enemy's presence. I knew this much to be true. But the breed of enemy was what had puzzled me. After all, before that point, I had only killed and wounded small animals.

With my eyes closed, I walked slowly to the middle of the room where I remained perfectly still. All of my focus was concentrated on the perfect silence. For a few moments, I remained quiet to the point of hearing my blood pulsating through my veins.

In one quick instant, my ears sensed exactly what I needed to hear.

The unsteady breath of the enemy.

I dove my sword in the direction of the sound, but the attack was met with another sword, the enemy was human. There were pathetic attempts to slice my arms with the opposing sword, but the enemy was clearly inexperienced. I laughed as I cut the air and felt the armor weaken. I was going to win.

The enemy managed to knock me to the ground, but I instantly rose back to my feet and struck heavily with the back of my sword. I heard the body fall to the ground. One severe blow to the head did the job. I crept silently behind the twitching creature.

Standing above the shadowed body, I smiled just before plunging my sword into the enemy's torso. I savored every final cough and sputter from the aching body. I was victorious.

A door opened slowly, leaking light into the room. The armored man entered, with a torch in one hand, and a large bottle of oil in the other. I squinted my eyes as the light radiating from the flame revealed the body of my enemy. My eyes widened as I studied the body in a state of shock. He wore a breastplate, like mine, which bore the same symbol, engraved in the steal. I'd lost my sense of time long ago, but I knew the enemy was no soldier. He couldn't have been older than I was. His bare arms were covered in the same bruises and scars that mine were. I knew those scars all too well. They were the same markings that covered my body. The cloaked men were to blame.

The armored man stood beside me glaring down at the corpse. He opened the bottle and poured the liquid onto the still body.

"Destroy it."

Without question, I grasped the torch and stared deep into the blaze, lost in its call of absolution.

Slowly, I lowered the torch and pressed it to the corpse, watching in amazement as the flame crawled over his skin and devoured the body. I later told myself that they only wanted the strongest to survive; that was why they forced us into battle in such a brutal manner. That had to be the reason.

The warmth of the fires glow touched my face with an unfamiliar gentleness as it charred the body it blanketed. The flames power made my unblinking eyes tear and grow red, though I took no notice of it. I inhaled deeply and slowly closed my eyes, letting the black smoke roll down my throat to fill my lungs. The smell of the burning flesh rejuvenated my empty and long since broken spirit. I exhaled slowly and opened my eyes once again, trapped in the glare of the dancing flames.

I formed words in my mind, but struggled to force them from my lips.

"What…"

I shuddered at the sound of my own voice.

"What am I?"

The flame's tears rolled down my cheeks, absorbing the warmth.

"You are the blood of Zaibach, and today you have proven your potential worthy to be the iron fist we will use to restore Gaea."

He turned his head away from the flame and fixed his fierce eyes upon mine.

"You are Dilandau Albatou."

I reached my hand out to the flame, spreading my fingers, tempted to touch it.

"My name is Dilandau…"

The flames rose and grew all the more beautiful.


	4. Ally

Over time I gained respect and a bit of a reputation. Though still confined to my chamber for the majority of the day, I was no longer monitored at night in the forests. At times I could even roam the city. I now had opportunities to run, but somehow I felt that the training was more important, essential to bettering myself. I had become disgusted by the concept of running. Run from what? I had a purpose, and I served it well.

In the following months, I was faced with fourteen like myself.

Fourteen souls cowering in fear, falling to their shaking knees within moments of being in my presence.

Fourteen effortlessly sliced open, and torched. Fourteen whose screams never failed to put a smile on my face.

All but one.

A fool who clumsily held his sword with the weight of the world, his skill with the blade was clearly lacking. In fact, he seemed to lack any real battle experience at all.

I enjoyed a few laughs as I swatted away his flailing sword. It was always the ones that were so sure they could bring me down that I savored toying with and defeating the most. It became much easier overtime.

I playfully stabbed his legs in several places. It started out with light cuts, but I couldn't resist a good stabbing. It was all in vain, though. Unlike the others, I couldn't get him to scream. Not once. I was rather disappointed; their sobs and pleas had always made the victory all the sweeter. However, I drew the battle on long enough to finally bring him to his knees. A moment of calm passed as he desperately attempted to catch his breath in quick, heavy gasps for air.

I stared down at him for a moment, perplexed by his stamina and determination. I demanded to know his name. He spat blood to clear his throat and spoke.

"Gatti."

His name was Gatti.

At that moment, I realized I could only recall learning very few names in my lifetime. My own, my country's, the names of various family members screamed by the test subjects near my chamber, but Gatti's was the first name I had learned that had a kind of unthreatening quality. There was no doubt attached to it. No question of morality.

I was tempted to help him stand, but I quickly retracted my hand and let him lay on the ground. Most likely thinking the battle had ended in the silence; the armored man entered the room, only to find that we were both alive.

"This is a fight to the death." He spoke sternly, reminding us of the single rule.

I turned to the man, holding my head up high.

"We've had our fight, and as you can see there was no death involved."

It was a bold move for me. Though I had proven myself on more than one occasion again to be a worthy soldier, I had yet to speak up in that manner.

The armored man looked at us both, examining the damage done. He could clearly see that Gatti had suffered far more wounds than I.

"Finish him off, Dilandau."

He said my name as if he knew me well. I hated that. I hated him.

He looked down upon me with a dominant glare, expecting me to obey the command. I could see straight through the fake stare and into the fear in his heart. Fear of **me**.

I pondered the command for a moment.

"This one will be spared. I don't think he's ever even held a sword before today. With a little training…I think we could make some use of him."

The armored man seemed rather annoyed, to say the least. I had taken a large risk in speaking those words to a man more than twice my size, but I knew it was time to test my power. My respected brutal reputation determined both my and Gatti's fate. The man stared at us both for a moment, snarled, and walked away.

I turned to Gatti, who was still recovering from the fight. I wasn't expecting any form of gratitude considering how much damage I had done to him. I wanted so badly for him to cower in pain and fear, but his eyes told a strange story. He looked up at me despairingly, as if to say, _"You should have finished the job."_ I turned away and walked towards the doorway, almost regretting my actions.

"…Where am I supposed to go?"

I turned my head back to him, surprised that he had the strength to speak.

"Return to your chamber, wherever that may be. They'll summon you for the next battle soon, I'm sure. I suggest you focus more on training…they may arrange for us to fight each other again in the future, I won't be so generous next time. You're really pathetic with a sword, you know."

He was quick to respond.

"I don't have a chamber, or anything for that matter. I'm…not exactly sure where I am, but I know Zaibach is to blame for my being here…I assume by the symbol on your chest that you're one of their nameless **drones**."

My eye twitched slightly.

"Nameless?" 

I struck him fiercely across his face with the palm of my hand. I enjoyed it.

"I just spared your insignificant life and **you** dare **_strip_** me of _my_ **NAME**? Let's not forget that _you_ bare the same symbol on your chest."

I struck him a second time, harder.

"I **earned** my name, a worthy name. And **YOU** will address me properly. I am Dilandau Albatou and from this moment on you will refer to me as **Lord Dilandau**."

Gatti silently lowered his head.

_"Zaibach scum…"_ he murmured under his breath. At that moment, I threw my sword to the side of the room and physically attacked him with my bare hands. I clutched his neck and laughed.

"I _should_ have finished the job..." He stretched his neck, desperately trying to clear his airway to breathe. He managed to speak between his gasps for air.

_"L-Lord…Dilandau…"_

I released my grip and stood over his bruised body, gazing down upon him. It was truly a pathetic sight. Bored, I sighed.

"You really don't know where you are? You've never been here?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. I nodded.

"…A captive, I assume. Where is your home?" I had never met an outsider before, but of course, I had to play the part of a well-educated traveler, a soldier who knew the lush green world outside of the iron bars.

"Basram. Your ravenous country started a meaningless battle with mine over the use of new technology, developed in **my** country." He spoke with an obvious hatred for my country. I really hadn't a clue of what Zaibach was doing to the outside world or what our goals were, whether or not we even had any. I honestly never cared.

"Why would they capture someone like you?" It was rare that I had an opportunity to ask questions like this.

"I wasn't captured. My city was involved in the attack and my father and I were discovered hiding amongst a group of civilians by a your soldiers. He's an older man…so I tried to protect him with whatever weapons I could find, but…instead he bargained with them for his life."

Gatti's story piqued my curiosity.

"Bargained…?" My country's soldiers were bargaining? Clearly Zaibach was in need of guidance.

Gatti stared at me with painful eyes.

"He offered _me_. He told them I was healthy and young, so I could be of use to them…in exchange for his life."

I don't really know why I bothered listening to his story. I really didn't care for self-pity. I suppose it was because Gatti was alone. It goes beyond the simple definition of the word. A worthless soul deserted or forsaken? No, deeper than that. Truly alone. He didn't even know where he was or why he was there…I felt that way once, long ago. It was one of my first lessons as a child. A lesson that Gatti had just learned.

"I was forced to leave with the soldiers, as one of them. I struggled to tell my father that he was making a mistake, but he didn't seem concerned with my pleas. They dragged me away from him, but as we left the building, I was still close enough to hear his screams when the treacherous soldiers went back on their word. They had me, and of course killed him instantly. I was brought to this country… woke up in this place, and was trapped in this room with a Zaibach sword and armor. Now I'm laying here in my own blood, telling my story to a Zaibach soldier."

I scoffed at him and turned my face away.

"So your father was a fool, and now you're stuck in the enemy country, where, with your lack of experience, you will surely die within days. What do you want me to do about it?" I honestly didn't know what to say to him. I couldn't recall the last conversation I'd had with…anyone, really.

"I don't expect anything from someone like you…not from someone who would pledge his allegiance to a twisted fascist hell hole like this country." I swiftly grabbed him by his collar and raised him up into the air.

"I pledged **nothing** to them. I simply do what I'm best at. It's the **only** way to survive in this world." Frustrated, I threw him to the ground.

A brief moment of silence passed through the air, I imagine Gatti couldn't understand what I meant. I didn't expect him to. I calmed myself down and tried to reason with him.

"I know of quarters that are unoccupied in this area. In a place like this…I doubt they'll ever notice someone as insignificant as you. Come."

I turned my hand, pointing him in my direction. He silently obeyed and followed me to the chambers where I introduced him to an abandoned, unused room. The room once belonged to one of my opponents...dead now, of course.

"I don't understand…why didn't they assign me a room?" I could sense somehow that Gatti was quickly forming some kind of blind trust in me. Trust in someone who a moment had bludgeoned him. I'll never understand the human mind.

"Because you were supposed to be dead by now." I opened the iron door and showed him the inside of the chamber, explaining the details.

"The space is unbearably small…the air is stale…the stench is horrid…and the darkness will drive you mad…Enjoy."

Gatti looked around, unsure of himself.

"What do we do for food…?"

I laughed silently at his seemingly endless oblivion.

"They'll give you rations once a day. Never eat them."

Gatti shifted his eyes in confusion.

"Never…?

Impatient, I sighed.

"Rations are more than just food here. They do something to it…"

I lost track of my words for a moment as my mind began to wander.

"…_something…"_

Gatti stared at me in a sort of worriment.

"…Lord Dilandau…?"

I shook my head slightly.

"Just don't eat them. There are other ways to get food. Stay in your chamber before they decide to put us both in that room again." Gatti compliantly nodded his head and entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

I stood motionless outside of his chamber for a moment, lost in thought.


	5. Gifted

That night, I sharpened my sword, grabbed a torch that lit the halls of the fortress, and ventured out into my favorite spot in the forest. There were always animals in that area.

I waited patiently in the soothing calm of the night, enjoying nature at her best. My ears finally picked up some small movement in a nearby bush. I crept nearer to the area carefully, silently assuring myself that I wouldn't scare the prey. Before it could even sense my presence, I stuck my blade into the creature's gut.

It was now time for my favorite part.

I gathered the dry leaves into a loose pile and lowered the torch. My hands started to shake in excitement as the flames gently touched the leaves and one by one engulfed them, forcing everything in its path to become one with it.

Fire… 

It was the only entity in this world that I cared for. I never wanted to leave its radiating warmth…I never wanted to taste the bitter cold of a metal table again. It was a power more alive than any breathing creature. I was in love.

I skinned the creature and sliced open the carcass with ease. As I cooked it over the fire, I found that I would often get distracted watching the blood from the burning flesh drip into the flames, sizzling as it hit the ground. Such carelessness often led to painful burns on my fingers, but it was no matter.

After the meat was thoroughly cooked, I wrapped it in a piece of cloth and prepared myself for training. It was true I'd already had a tiring battle that day, but it wasn't as if I would go back to the fortress to sleep. Sleep seemed less important to me over time. Why should I lie still in a dank chamber when I could be killing something?

I stayed close to the fire I had created as I tested my dexterity on a tall pine. I was improving greatly as I proudly hit my target every time, leaving harsh, jagged marks in the tree's bark.

As the night had grown darker, I had, for the time, reached my limit. My breath was short and my arms were throbbing. I sat near the lingering fire and inhaled deeply as I closed my eyes. The autumn air was cold, but it didn't matter. The fire would protect me.

After a few moments of peace with the flames, I knew that morning would come soon. I grabbed my sword and the meat I had cooked, ready to return to the fortress. I was about to blanket the fire with water, when suddenly I realized something.

I couldn't do it. How could I undo fire? At the time it simply didn't seem logical. I stood silent for a moment, watching the dying flame bleed into embers. It saddened me somehow…

_"No…"_ I told myself.

_"Let it **burn**."_

I returned to the fortress and left the meat wrapped in cloth in front of Gatti's door. I knocked twice and quickly returned to my chamber. I wasn't all that hungry anyway.

I knew of the battles that went on. I'd heard stories from the soldiers whom once guarded the fortress. I didn't know specifically what we were fighting or why, aside from what Gatti had told me about Basram, but the city was practically emptied of soldiers. I hadn't even seen much of the armored man whose presence rarely left the fortress. It was only the sick, the elderly, the women, and the children who lingered in the city, accompanied by a few guards and soldiers.

Gatti found me cleaning my sword in one of the weaponry rooms. Most of those rooms had windows, and provided a small amount of fresh air. However, today's air seemed gray and smelled of smoke. I enjoyed it.

"Lord Dilandau, I came to tell you how grateful I am for the food you left for me."

I continued cleaning the blood from my sword, never looking at him.

"From now on, you'll find your own food." I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.

"But I can't leave the fortress, Lord Dilandau. I can barely leave my chamber." A negative attitude was not something I was prepared to tolerate.

"You **can**. They're just trying to intimidate you. You think they'd kill you with such a severe lack of soldiers right now? If anyone tries to stop you from leaving, tell them that you have my permission to do so."

Gatti obviously had trouble adapting to this concept.

"…You have that kind of authority here, Lord Dilandau?"

I paused for a moment and stood.

"They are **afraid** of me, Gatti. In the past year I've defeated many just like myself. They would never tell me, but I know I've excelled past everything they could hope for. I've earned authority."

I grabbed a sword from the weapon rack and threw it to Gatti.

"I'll do as I please."

I walked passed him and lead him to the exit.

"I'm going to show you where to find food, and you will never bother me with this matter again, understood?"

He nodded submissively and followed me outside into the twilight, where we could see a large black cloud hanging above my forest in the distance.


	6. Rain's Lullaby

"…What happened out there?" Gatti's curiosity angered me.

"Quiet." I stood in confusion for a moment, feeling an unfamiliar sense of concern. I ran down the fortress steps and into the heart of the city. Like the sheep he was, Gatti followed.

Approaching two guards who seemed to be speaking to each other of what had happened, I quickly interrupted their conversation.

"What happened in the forest area? Was there an attack?" I had little experience with talking to outsiders, but I needed to know…partly because the forest was so close to my home, and partly because it excited me. My heart was racing to learn what had happened.

"There was a large fire in the area early this morning. We don't know what started it or whether or not it was an enemy, but our men were finally able to contain it. Pity too…with all that's happened under Dornkirk's rule, Zaibach has so few forest areas now. Practically the whole area was burnt to the ground. I bet it was Asturia…those treacherous-" Though he continued on with his ramblings of paranoia, I walked away from him. I had the information I needed.

"An enemy attack on a Zaibach _forest_…?" Gatti seemed to enjoy analyzing the situation.

"It wasn't an attack. It was me."

Gatti paused as his eyes widened. I continued walking.

"You? But, Lord Dilandau-"

"I lit a fire last night..." I smiled as the reality of the situation sunk deep into my mind.

"…And I let it burn. I left it to burn through the night."

Gatti fell silently concerned. I imagine he didn't know what to think of me in that moment. Perhaps his perception of me had been warped, I couldn't know. However, I could feel uncertain his eyes on me.

I quickened my pace and ran to the area that was once the place where I trained every night. As I grew closer, the air became heavier with the thick, gray smoke. Gatti was struggling to catch up with me, but became lost in the dark clouds as he coughed violently.

I ran to the center of the once burning forest. The trees were charred and the shrubbery had burnt to nothing. I kneeled on the ground and dug my pale fingers into the black ground, inhaling deeply. Tightening my grip, I tore two handfuls of the mixed dirt and soft ash from the ground. It was still warm.

The black smoke above the dead trees bled into the dark clouds in the sky. In an instant, rain fell heavily, as if the sky mourned the loss of the once green forest. I closed my eyes and inhaled the death once more. It was that moment that Gatti had finally caught up with me.

"Lord Dilandau…"

I began trembling, but the shakes quickly grew into an uncontrollable laughter that echoed through the baron forest. It was a beautiful sight. I was in the middle of a masterpiece…the true essence of its power. A simple cooking fire took control of an entire forest and bent it to its will, a determination to destroy. How cruel for the fire to taunt me in such a way without ever sharing its gift. I envied that power…I wanted to become a fire. I wanted its gift for my own.

My laughter soon faded into the sound of the rain hitting and soaking into the ground. It was from this moment on that Gatti would always treat me differently. Of course, he would always respect me, but there would always be the weight of worry in his thoughts, an unwanted concern for my mind and actions. It was Gatti's weakness.

There was silence.

The men who'd slain the fire had left long before; all that lingered now was the dying smoke drifting in the wet air.

Gatti remained speechless as he kept his distance from me.

Yet, still, he stayed with me.

I could swear it was midday, but several layers of dark gray concealed the sun, blackening our home into a strange dark void. There was no sense of time passage.

The rain continued falling, stealing the warmth of the ground. A disturbing chill ran through my body. As loving as the fires warmth was, it was always fleeting, as most good things in the world are.

I lifted my body from the ground, soaking wet from the polluted rain. Gatti tried to speak but seemed overwhelmed; I doubt he could form any words. What was there to say?

I walked past him silently, slowly, heading back home.

He followed.

By the time we had reached the fortress, the rain had stopped.

I sat on the stone fortress steps, not quite ready to return to my chamber. I was tired.

The steps were covered in puddles from the brief, heavy rainfall. My mind had wandered off as I dipped my feet into the puddle in front of me, staring at the small ripples they created.

Gatti sat near me on the steps. It was a bold move, considering how…unstable I was feeling. My face was buried in my hands as he looked up in awe of the glowing orb of blue, which somehow shone through the smoky sky.

"They say it's cursed…that there's some kind of mysterious force that binds it to Gaea. What do you think the Mystic Moon really is, Lord Dilandau?"

My words were muddled as I spoke into my hands.

"_I don't know, and I don't care."_ I stood up and ran my fingers through my wet hair.

"What'll we do for food now?" Gatti had quickly become dependent on me.

"It doesn't matter." I turned from him and walked back into the fortress, leaving him alone on the steps.

I crept back into my chamber, unseen. I hadn't mentioned it to Gatti, but the only real threat in the fortress was the small chance of the cloaked men catching us wandering. It wasn't that they would punish us, but we could be seen as convenient subjects on hand for any test they might perform. Staying hidden from their sight was the best way to keep out of their twisted minds. The only lingering soldiers in the large fortress clearly had little control of me, and though the cloaked men would rarely leave their sadistic rooms of science…I still feared them. I couldn't tell this to Gatti yet…knowing that he would ask questions about them; questions that I wouldn't be prepared to answer.

I sat in my chamber, knowing that sunset was passing me by…it was never something I enjoyed. Seeing a glorious globe of fire sink below my sight to let the dark plague the sky, I found it sickening. Sunrise always seemed more intriguing, but I would always return to my chamber before night's end. I never felt worthy of looking upon it, really.

Shaking from the cold, I tried to close my eyes. It was rare that I'd welcome sleep, but the day had drained me of all resistance. At first, I had to force myself to tightly shut my eyes while pleading with my body to stop shaking.

Visions of the flames swam through my mind. I remembered the soft ash I held in my hands that day, the smell of the charred wood, and the lingering warmth that the fire had left behind. My body slowly stopped shaking as I fell deeply into a very much-needed sleep.


	7. Hope

I awoke early the next morning to the sound of unfamiliar commotion. Bugles sounded outside the fortress while the endless stirring of a mob grew. Outside my chamber, I saw the few soldiers of my fortress flee the building quickly, hurrying out of the front doors. One soldier had the courtesy to inform me of the event.

There was a knock on my door.

I opened it cautiously, peaking my eye out of the crack of light. I was never terribly fond of visitors.

"What do you want?"

The young soldier spoke with hope and admiration in his voice.

"It's Emperor Dornkirk! He's going to speak to the public today! Attendance is requi-"

I squinted my eye angrily at him.

"I mean, attendance is…_recommended_. Please come. It's so rare that he speaks to us. I'm sure it's important-" His eyes wandered off as he watched the last remaining soldiers leave.

"I-I have to go!" He quickly ran off, leaving me to my decision.

I shifted my eyes momentarily, aware that the fortress was practically empty.

"Hm."

I left my chamber, curious of what this "Dornkirk" would have to say. I'd heard of his leadership…ah yes, the man whose word was always spoken of, but was rarely seen. It was his rule that had made my country what it was, though I had no real grasp of that at the time. The thought of hearing him speak to the public intrigued me.

I walked down the halls, in no hurry, and knocked twice on Gatti's door as I continued ahead.

"Gatti, come." My voice carried through the halls.

He heard me, of course, and obeyed.

Frantically he ran out of his chamber to catch up with me.

"Lord Dilandau, where are we going? What is all the noise about?" I'd come to find Gatti's endless questions as a sort of entertainment.

"A meeting, Gatti. An important one." We continued to the fortress doors.

"Why didn't they inform _me_?"

I smiled at him.

"Because they don't _care_ about _you_, Gatti."

We approached the top of the fortress steps, where we could see the massive crowds gathered near the heart of the city. I'd never seen so many people in once place before. It was an energy I had never felt in my city, a great sense of unity and belonging, joined with a silent fear. My people held a great amount of faith in Dornkirk; I needed to know why.

As I made my way into the city, I tried to make out whether or not Dornkirk was present or not. I could only see the people who moved aimlessly among the crowd, quaking in excitement.

There was something in front of the crowd, something tall and nameless. It was rectangular and blanketed with a pristine, white sheet-like material.

Moving in closer to the crowd, I began pushing my way through the civilians. Had they known who I was…they would surely have moved automatically. One man I pushed actually took the time to push back.

"**Watch it**. We're all waiting to see the emperor, kids like _you_ should stay in the back."

I imagine based on my appearance, he didn't think me to be much more than a common beggar.

I wasn't in the mood to waste time on him. I continued trying to push through the crowd, but the man decided that he wasn't done with me. He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me back towards him.

"Did you not **hear** me? Stupid kid…" He threw his fist in my face, breaking my skin and smearing blood from my mouth to my cheek. Trapped, Gatti screamed to me from far behind the crowds. I could vaguely see him desperately trying to reach me through the dense mass of oblivious people.

I'd had enough of the man.

I twisted his arm and repeatedly beat my fist into the back of his head. My hand grew red as I continued the pummeling, ensuring that the man would not bother me any longer. I became too involved in bruising the man's skull, and foolishly failed to notice his leg swing forward, knocking me down.

My head to slammed hard against the stone of the city streets, blurring my vision slightly. The man stood over me, ready to crush me with his mud-encrusted boot, when suddenly the entire crowd fell silent and still.

There was an announcement from one of the officials standing in front of the endless crowd, but I was too far and disoriented to hear what was being said. Suddenly, the large object that stood before all of us was unveiled of its blanketing white, revealing an infinite black screen. The audience stood in awe of the great screen, waiting for a message of some kind. Suddenly, another command was shouted from the official standing near the screen. Once again I couldn't quite hear what he was saying, but a moment later, it didn't matter.

The crowd suddenly shifted rapidly towards the screen, packing even closer towards the center of their attention. I was still on the ground.


	8. The Innocent

Their feet pounded on my flesh. Some saw my body as an obstacle and tried to avoid me, others failed to notice. Bruising me, crushing me, they continued on, unstoppable, not at all noticing my broken body lying on the ground. I've always known that the people of Zaibach are mindless sheep who won't care for the well being of others. It didn't surprise me.

I cried out for them to stop as they continued to trample me, ignoring my pleas. The pain was close to unbearable as I clenched my teeth and choked back tears. It had been a long time since I had felt so desperate for help, calling out to those who'd never give a second glance.

I fell silent as I accepted the grim fact that no one would see me. Small children even began stepping over my body. Seconds passed like days, minutes seemed like weeks. I made a few small attempts to move, but I could feel that my legs were bound to the pain. I closed my eyes and silently waited for it to be over…

…until I heard a familiar call nearby.

"Lord Dilandau!"

I opened my eyes and witnessed Gatti forcefully push his way through the stubborn crowd. He had finally reached me.

"Dilandau…" He scanned my body quickly, analyzing the damage done. The surrounding people continued to step on me…until Gatti had his say.

"GET OFF OF HIM!" Gatti furiously pushed away all of the civilians near my body. He lifted me up with both arms as I leaned against his shoulder, short of breath. I had never recognized such loyalty in him; it was something I would not soon forget.

I forced myself to speak in whatever unsteady voice I had, assuring that Gatti's concern for me would lessen.

_"**What** took you so long…?"_

Gatti's eyes widened at the sight of my speaking.

"Lord Dilandau…I'm so-"

Suddenly, the crowd fell silent and still once more, including Gatti and myself. Our heads turned in wonder as all of our eyes were fixed on the great screen. An image was projected, unclear at first, slowly forming a face, old and wise. The mob instantly fell to their knees.

A deep and commanding voice echoed throughout the city, ringing in our ears. He spoke.

"**Citizens of Zaibach, the Battle with Basram is coming to an end. The technology we have requested of them is finally close to our grasp. Countless men have given their lives to benefit Zaibach and our advances in this world. However, the final battles are still taking place, and the casualty rates have increased greatly. We will now be recruiting younger soldiers in this war. These young men will be expected to fight for Zaibach as any adult would. We are too close to achieving our goals to simply give in to countries that have no real comprehension of our ideal future; a future that will no longer depend on bloodshed to better ourselves, a future free of war and mindless slaughter. The future that is the will of Atlantis!"**

The crowd rose into a roaring applause, screaming their allegiance to the face on the screen. I shuddered as the pain suddenly fell numb. My heart raced in the excitement as adrenaline rushed through my blood and filled my spirit with a great sense of pride. So _this_ was Emperor Dornkirk.

In a great white flash, the face had left the screen, and there were several announcements made. The officials were telling parents where and when their sons would report. I heard the scattered sobbing of heartbroken mothers throughout the crowd, though they would quickly be silenced. Past the crowd, I could see that there were two men who had been standing near the screen, making the announcements. They were heavily armored; very similar in appearance. These were men with authority over my country…I didn't like that.

There was another man standing at the front of the crowd, seeming somehow distant from the two armored men. He remained very close to the screen, as if he held a silent authority over everyone below him, and a bond to Dornkirk. Never speaking a word, he stood high above us, wrapped in a dark cloak. I knew that cloak well. I knew what he was.

We waited for the crowd to scatter a bit before trying to make our way back to the fortress. It was rather humiliating on my part…I couldn't walk on my own. Gatti knew this.

We both remained silent as I was forced to lean against Gatti to maintain any balance. Every step back to the fortress meant a sharp pain piercing through my leg, up into my lower back. I hated dependency.

As we walked, I could feel a trail of fresh blood rolling down my neck. My eyes stayed focused on the ground, watching drops of blood from my fingertips hit the stones of the road. I hadn't the strength to lift my head; I was forced to trust Gatti to guide me back to our home.

It took some time, but eventually we made our way back to the fortress steps, which was quite a humiliating challenge for me. Gatti tried to assist me, but I became frustrated and pushed him away. I forced my beaten legs to lift the weight of my body up each grueling step. Though my stubborn will pushed me up the steps, I collapsed when I reached the top.

I don't know how much time passed between that moment and when I awoke in the corner my chamber. My body was throbbing and bruised, it would need more than a few nights to recover. Shortly after, there was a knock on my door and a voice outside my chamber.

"Lord Dilandau? Are you awake yet?"

I remained silent, wanting to be left alone.

Gatti cautiously opened the door, most likely presuming that I was still passed out.

"Lord Dilandau…?"

I stared at him through the dark of my chamber impatiently.

"What do you want?" I tried to make it clear that I wanted the conversation to be brief.

He entered my chamber letting in the pale light of the hallway torches.

"I went back and found some food…"

He held out a small loaf of bread.

"…Please eat something."

I grabbed the bread from his hand; I was actually quite hungry.

"You _found_ this?"

He lowered his head.

"Well…I stole it."

I smiled and nodded my head, placing the bread by my side. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I also retrieved these…"

He placed several white bandages and an old bottle of antiseptic by my side.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find anything else for you. I asked around, but…all of the healers in the area charge for their services. Isn't there anyone in the fortress who could help you?"

I shook my head at his ignorance.

"They let the wounded rot. If you're dumb enough to be injured seriously, you deserve to die. It's what they've always believed."

Gatti let his inquisitive nature get the better of him.

"Is that what you believe, Lord Dilandau?"

I shook my head slightly.

"It doesn't matter what I believe."

I kept my eyes closed, keeping my focus off of my wounds.

"Maybe not the remaining soldiers…but there are others here who could help you, yes? Those men who wear cloaks, they must have knowledge of medicines."

My eyes opened.

"You've seen the cloaked men…"

Gatti nodded as he spoke.

"Well…yes, Lord Dilandau. They roam the halls every now and then, and I thought since they clearly aren't soldiers, maybe they were healers…"

I lifted my body slightly up against a wall, wanting to stand, but unable to.

"They are **not** healers. If you ever see them in the halls, I want you to stay out of their sight by any means necessary."

I had strained my body by moving, and was suddenly reminded that one of my ribs was most likely broken.

"But, Lord Dilandau-"

**"You will not go _near_ them." **

I slid my body back down the side of the wall I'd been leaning against.

An unwanted silence passed between us for a moment.

"…What _are_ they…?"

I inhaled deeply and sighed. Gatti, being as stupid as he was, would have probably sought out the men themselves if I were not at least partially honest with him.

"I don't know…" I sighed once more.

"I don't know. But they have no interest in helping others."

Gatti sat down on the ground, most likely feeling uncomfortable holding his head higher than mine.

"They're the ones who have been doing something to the rations, aren't they…?"

I nodded silently.

"They've done more than that…?"

I closed my eyes and kept silent for a moment. Gatti listened obediently. I tried to explain the situation as clearly as possible.

"That screaming down the hall, you hear it every night, don't you?"

He nodded his head and replied.

"I had always imagined they were young wounded soldiers in surgery…"

I smiled and laughed silently.

"No, Gatti. It's children. _Orphans_, I imagine…"

I became lost in my own words. It was the first time I had said such things aloud; I imagine my mind had trouble adapting.

Gatti made a bold move and spoke softly with a question.

"…Lord Dilandau...are you an orph-?"

I immediately stopped his inquisition.

"Never ask me such a question. **Never.**"

He lowered his head in a silent apology as I continued speaking what truth I knew.

"The cloaked men use them."

I could hear Gatti's breath quicken.

"They…_use_ them sir?"

"I don't know why…I don't know why they do what they do, but I do know why they scream."

I lowered my head and dug my face into my arms.

Speechless, Gatti's eyes widened as he continued to listen.

"Some survive, others don't. I think most of the survivors are trained…fed those chemicals through our rations…forced to battle in that room that you were thrown into, where you should have died."

Gatti's wide eyes remained focused on me.

"They all end up in that room at some point, and none of them ever leave alive."

I raised my head to Gatti and smiled.

"I make sure of that."

I didn't know if Gatti could really understand anything I had said. He was young, and his mind was simple. I think whatever shred of innocence he had remaining was now gone. It was all for the best…innocence would do him no good in Zaibach. I knew that from then on, he wouldn't be able to ignore the screaming any longer. There was no room for oblivion in that place.


End file.
